Bonded

Chapter 37: Containment

CHAPTER SUMMARY: The invasion on Bandomeer doesn't go as planned.

The Stormtrooper crouches, his back pressed to a shipping crate. He grips his blaster, ears alert, sensitive to the slightest sound.

He hears them moving back there, whispering. There are at least three of them, maybe more, hiding behind a barricade a few meters away.

The trooper straightens, listening. He glances down when he hears a soft moan.

His friend slouches against the crate, a hand over the wound at his side. His armor's cracked, blood streaming over the white surface and dripping onto the floor. There's a pool of it now...

"Ninety-Six...?"

The wounded man doesn't answer.

"Stay with me, buddy." The trooper keeps his voice low. "Just stay with me. I'm gonna get you outta here." He gulps, looking at his blaster.

His captain's gonna kill him.

He broke the number one rule in combat— Stay with your unit.

He had the chance. There was the smallest window after the grenade went off, a second of quiet. He could've scrambled up and rejoined the others.

But he didn't. He couldn't.

Because Ninety-Six was lying out in the open, badly wounded, an easy target. So, he grabbed him and dragged him behind the crate.

Then chaos broke out again, the scum pelting his unit with fire. Before he knew it, they were all gone, not a single trooper in sight.

At first, he thought he was alone, the room silent as death. But he barely peeked over the crate before he was greeted by a barrage of fire. He instantly ducked and has been hiding ever since. It's felt like forever...

He pops up every minute or so, firing at the scum. They're keeping their distance for now. But when they figure out they've got the upper hand...

The trooper's blood runs cold.

He whips a hand to his helmet, activating his comm.

"This is FN-3184, requesting back-up," he whispers. "I repeat, this is FN-3184, requesting back up immediately."

He holds his breath. A lifetime seems to pass...

Nothing. Again.

He lets out an exhale, resigned to the reality.

No one's coming.

He sinks.

"Hey buckethead!"

He tenses at the call of the scum.

"Hey buckethead, is that just you over there?"

He instantly pops up, meeting the question with a round of fire. He ducks down, squeezing his eyes shut as the scum respond with their own fire, pelting the crate and the area around him. He keeps still until the shots die down.

"Nuuuh..." Ninety-Six moans, tugging at his helmet. He seems to want it off.

"Sorry, buddy." He sidles closer to him. "Gotta keep it on."

"Nuuuh..." He moans again, tugging harder.

Eighty-Four watches him struggle, his throat tightening.

"Ok, ok..." He sets his blaster down. "I got it. I got you." He unclicks the helmet and pulls it off.

Ninety-Six takes a giant gulp of air.